Body of Years
by ShiveringTree
Summary: AU set some months after "Born Under A Bad Sign",consequences of Sam's possession will be discovered and Jo hasn't been seen for months after the incident There will be some Sam whumpage in the coming chapters as well as eventual Jo/Dean. ST.
1. Chapter 1

**Body of Years**

CHAPTER 1

* * *

The night air was cool, crisp, and saturated with the thick, heady aroma of freshly turned earth. Jo's breath was visible in small puffs as she panted, throwing the last shovelful of dirt over her shoulder and out of the grave.

The lid creaked and dirt showered back as she pried the casket open with her crowbar. A grinning skeletal face awaited her. The jaw was no longer attached to the skull but the rest of the bones were laid out in the same position the man had been buried. A few scraps of clothing littered the casket floor. With no trace of revulsion, Jo quickly and evenly covered the bones with salt. She tossed her crowbar and shovel over the lip of the grave. Jo briefly glanced up to notice that sunrise was fast approaching. Damn. She needed to get out of the cemetery before the grounds keeper performed his morning rounds.

Jo's back, shoulders and arms ached as she hauled her lean frame from the earthen depths. Wasting no time, she rolled to her feet and grabbed a packet of matches from the back pocket of her jeans. The match flared as it ignited, briefly illuminating her dirt-streaked face before she let if fall directly onto the remains. Satisfaction coursed through her veins as it always did upon finishing a hunt. The angry spirit would be put to rest with the burning of his final remains.

Back at her apartment, Jo stripped off her sweat and dirt streaked clothing. In the tiny bathroom, she stared at her naked figure in the mirror. Her arms and legs were spotted and speckled with bruises and cuts, some larger than others. Jo's knees were so bruised that it looked like they were perpetually dirty. But underneath the battered surface of her skin, Jo could see and feel the hardness of her muscles that had been absent two months ago. She sighed involuntarily as she stepped into the now running shower. The calming effect of the water felt good, but it left her mind clear to wander places she usually didn't want it to go.

Tonight had been Jo's fourth hunt in two weeks. A couple months ago she would have been thrilled with all the solo evil-smiting she had accomplished. But the Jo from just a couple months ago was a different person than who she was now. That Jo had not been raped. The attack had happened in Duluth, Minnesota. She had vacated the city early the following morning because she would not stay in a place that a demon had tracked her to so effortlessly. She had always considered herself strong and street smart but had been proved wrong on both counts. Hell, she hadn't even known that her rapist had been possessed by a demon. Then, Jo had been too weak to fight back. She would never be too weak again. Soon she had found herself in Wyoming, where she chose to stay for about a month. Currently she had stationed herself in Boston, Massachusetts, where she was forced to accept a real job to pay for her gas and food.

Since her dad had died she had always wanted to be a hunter. Now Jo found that she _needed_ to be one. Jo had to live every day with the raw, ugly pain of what she had let happen to her and what she had learned. Soon she found that hunting was the only way she could push away the hurt and shame that doggedly followed her. Hunting allowed her the strength to get up in the morning. Hunting was all she would allow herself to think about. If Jo allowed her focus to deviate she knew the pain would rush back to her; The pain of truly knowing how her father had died, and the agony of repeatedly imagining how she could have prevented what had happened to her in Duluth.

Jo spent her time researching when work interfered with her hunting trips. On her coffee breaks at work she would sit in her truck and pore over newspapers, old manuscripts and various clippings. Sometimes when it was real slow she would even open up her files on the bar. She would always be careful to slide them out of sight at the first sound of front door opening. Months ago, Jo had considered her self strong and capable. She had been wrong then but she was not wrong now.

Jo emerged from the shower and towelled off quickly. She threw on a t-shirt and finally collapsed into her lumpy bed. Sleep was approaching her quickly as exhaustion hit. Jo was almost tired enough not to think tonight. Almost. _I should have known better. _Her consciousness whispered it to her as she fell asleep, as it always did now. _I should not have turned my back on Sam Winchester. _

_6 months later..._

Sam dropped his duffel bag onto the bed and began picking up random articles of clothing and crumpled case notes from around the small motel room. Dean's bad singing could be clearly heard over the sound of the shower. Sam shook his head and smiled to himself as grabbed one last stray sock off the mustard colored carpet.

He zipped up his now full duffel and flopped down onto the bed. Dean usually took an abnormally long time to get ready in the morning but after last night's hunt, Sam could hardly blame him. Before Sam had managed to dig to the corpse to salt and burn it, the particularly vengeful spirit had pushed an antique wardrobe on top of Dean. Miraculously, Dean had not broken one bone but had acquired a myriad of new bruises. His brother tried to act as if they weren't bothering him, but Sam wasn't fooled. Sam would be driving today, despite any protests his stubborn brother might have.

Dean emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later with a fresh shave and damp hair. "Took you long enough!" Sam grinned at Dean, "Makes me wonder what you were doing in there so long".

Dean yawned and rubbed his hand through his wet hair, "Its payback for all those times that I have had to wait for you to get your fancy espresso, Francis."

Sam rolled his eyes,"Whatever. Lets get going. I'm driving today".

Dean rounded on Sam "The hell you are! You-" Dean's ringing cell phone cut the argument short.

Sam reached for the phone while Dean grabbed a fresh shirt from his bag.

Sam flipped open the phone. "Yeah, Sam here", there was a brief pause. "Hey Ellen, what's up?" Dean looked at Sam with peaked interest. Dean could hear Ellen's voice but could not make out what she was saying. "We'll look into it". Sam hung up the phone. Dean looked questioningly at Sam. "Ellen needs a favour." Sam answered the unspoken question.

Dean frowned "And we are driving all the way to the Roadhouse? Look Sam, Ellen is a nice lady- ." Sam cut him off.

"Ellen says Jo's been missing for several months".

Dean still looked skeptical. "And Ellen called us because?"

Sam frowned at Dean's nonchalance and continued, "Apparently she sends a postcard every couple months but Ellen hasn't got any since August. She waited for a while, hoping Jo was just being Jo but... Ellen finally tried calling her cell and the number was disconnected".

Dean didn't look convinced. He casually scratched the side of his chin. "Maybe Jo is just spreading her wings or something. Ellen might just be overreacting- you remember how overprotective she is, the woman caught a freakin' plane to chase after Jo, thinking she needed to save her."

Sam answered quickly "You might not remember Dean, but Jo _did_ need saving. And we kinda owe Ellen for lying to her about Jo being with us in Philly. We don't have another job lined up so I don't see why not. She might actually need our help."

Dean pursed his lips then shrugged. "Alright then, I give in. Off to save the Damsel in Distress- again."

The younger brother rolled his eyes. "So, Sam, where exactly are we headed?"

Sam slung his duffel on to his shoulder. "Ellen hasn't heard from her since she was in Duluth."

* * *

Please review- especially if you want more ;)


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

_One week after her last hunt_

Jo threw the small golden charm bracelet into the open fire-place as an invisible force slammed into her from behind. She screamed as she was hurled across the room and smashed into a nearby mirror. Jo rolled herself onto her back in time to see the spirit materialize in front of her. The girl smiled at Jo and beckoned with a pale white hand. Jo tried to scramble away but the spirit flickered from a standing position to straddling her chest. Its currently corporeal weight was enough to press Jo securely into the hardwood. She squirmed,trying to reach for the iron poker that lay in a stand just out of reach. Suddenly the girl's hands were wrapped tight around Jo's throat.

_Why wasn't the damn charm melting?! _She fought against the cold hands that cut off her air supply. Jo felt herself weakening, as she gazed up into the frightening blue eyes. Oozing black ectoplasm dripped from the thing's eyes, ears, nose and mouth onto her as she writhed underneath. Jo could feel her strength waning fast now. _I'm not going to make it._ Just as Jo's vision began to dim, the pressure around her throat vanished. She forced herself to a sitting position out of sheer force of will and met the girl's last baleful glare . Finally, the spirit flickered and was gone.

Jo sagged back onto the dusty hardwood floor as the adrenaline faded from her veins. She breathed heavily, catching up on the oxygen she had been deprived of. With each breath her throat burned from being so tightly constricted. Jo became aware of the sensation of liquid running down her face, she touched her cheek and felt something warm and wet, when she brought her fingers away they were covered in black ectoplasm. She grimaced in disgust. Jo got up and tried to wipe off as much of the stuff as she could. _God it stank!_ The smell of it was overpowering and disgusting. Her stomach heaved and she knelt over a nearby couch to collect herself.

_What is wrong with me? _She asked herself as she placed her head between her knees. She had dealt with ectoplasm half a dozen times before and had never had this violent a reaction. Jo straightened as soon as she figured her stomach had settled enough for her to move. She took two steps and her hands flew automatically to her mouth as she tried to hold back the sudden surge of vomit. Intense waves of nausea rolled through her body. Despite herself, Jo dropped to her knees and gave in to the sickness.

After a quick change of clothes and cleaning herself up the best she could. Jo was in her truck heading down the interstate. Presently, she felt entirely healthy aside from the injuries acquired from the spirit. Jo had her music on as loud as she could tolerate but it still couldn't stop her mind from racing, or more specifically, calculating. Withstanding the occasional hangover, Joanna Beth Harvelle hadn't been sick since childhood. Jo knew she wasn't sick, and she definitely wasn't one to be squeamish. That left her with one option and immediately denial set in._ No no no_.

Jo pulled into the first rest stop that she came to. She had to know for sure. A bell tinkled as she pushed open the door. She mechanically examined the contents of the shelves until she found what she was looking for. She grabbed the pregnancy test and went to the counter. The female clerk stared at her oddly and Jo realized that she still had a lot of oily ectoplasm all over her, not to mention the various cuts and bruises she had just received. Jo quickly paid for the test and asked for the key to the rest stop bathroom.

Shortly Jo was sitting on the lid of a toilet in a grimy stall. She read the graffiti while she waited, focusing on keeping her breathing normal. After a while she glanced at her wrist watch. Time was up. Her hand shook as she picked the test off the top of the toilet paper dispenser. It was positive. And for the first time since the rape; She cried.

Jo didn't stop to glance at her reflection in the grimy mirror before exiting the restroom. Once in her truck she sat quietly, letting her mind clear. Duluth had been just over two months ago. Jo was definitely over 8 weeks pregnant. She smacked her head on the steering wheel. Jesus she was stupid. Jo had been so focused on hunting that she hadn't considered the obvious possible consequences and definitely hadn't noticed the obvious symptoms.

She leaned back in the seat, and gingerly lifted up the hem of her cotton t-shirt. Jo's stomach was flat and hard, with no visible evidence of the news she had just received. She sighed and dropped her shirt, then tried to turn her keys in the ignition. Jo's hands were shaking so badly that all she managed to do was yank them out and drop them down by the pedals. Great. There was no way she would be able to drive in this condition. Jo glanced at her wristwatch, it was fast approaching four in the morning, and with no motels within walking distance.

Jo yawned and rubbed her eyes. Stress, physical exertion and emotional fatigue were swiftly creeping up on her. She blinked hard, trying to keep her eyes open. Despite her best efforts she began to slide down and across the seat. Jo was asleep before her head hit the upholstery.

She was awake suddenly, with the sensation that more than a couple hours had passed. Jo blinked, wondering what had awoken her so abruptly. The sky outside the window of her truck was still a deep blue. A glow on the horizon just barely hinted at the coming sunrise. Jo rubbed her temples as memories of the previous few hours came flooding back into her consciousness. Her stomach dropped suddenly as realization washed over, and unconsciously her hand flew to her abdomen. _Pregnant. _

_One week later..._

Jo pushed through the glass doors with her head down. Already this was not what she had expected: There were no angry protesters parading in front of the clinic, no waving signs or shouted obscenities. There were no barriers to stop what she was about to do. She was going to erase all evidence of what had happened to her in Duluth. Jo pressed her lips together determinedly. She knew this was the logical decision, even if the father of the baby had not been possessed by a demon. Aside from eliminating potential evil offspring, Jo knew she was not ready for a child, hell she had never wanted any kids anyway! She was broke, twenty-one, single, and most importantly... a hunter. It was her duty as a hunter to end this before it even started.

Jo approached the front desk confidently. The curly-haired receptionist was on the phone, twirling the cord absentmindedly as she spoke. She acknowledged Jo and nodded to a stack of forms on the front desk. Jo grabbed a form and pen and found a seat among one of the squashy turquoise chairs that littered the waiting area. She needed all of this to be over. Jo just wanted to get back to the life she had made for herself. She tried to print her name at the top of the page. Her pen was poised to write, but as soon as she began to scrawl her name her hand began shaking. Shocked, Jo tried to fight the strange reaction her hand was having. Jo focused on steadying her hand but to no avail, the shaking had spread throughout her entire body. Jo stood up, still shaking. _She couldn't do it_. For the life of her, she couldn't do it.

Jo left her truck in the parking lot and went on foot. She needed time to allow her mind and body to calm. Jo kept her head down, watching her feet as they moved mechanically across the sidewalk. People passed her in both directions, but Jo was mostly unaware of them. Finally, due to pure fatigue, Jo's feet slowed. How long had she been walking? The sky was a deep blue and the street lights were just starting to turn on. She blinked at the building she found herself standing in front of. She almost laughed at what she saw. Fittingly, she had somehow made her way to a church_._

Jo gazed towards the building uncertainly. It was a beautiful structure, all gray stone and stained glass windows. Finally, realizing that standing on the sidewalk for a prolonged period of time would attract too much attention, she walked through the heavy oak doors.

Jo paused on the worn, thick, maroon carpet that separated the pews, again afflicted with uncertainty. What was she looking for here? Certainly not spiritual 'reassurance'. She breathed in deeply and despite her misgivings a strange feeling of calm overtook her senses. The air was musky and stale with the smell of wax and dust. It was a comforting smell from the childhood days when Ellen had still brought her for Sunday service. She slipped into one of the pews near the exit, so she could escape quickly as needed.

She gazed towards the pulpit, and the large crucifix that adorned it. A man was kneeling before the crucifix, Jo hadn't noticed him before and her shoulders automatically stiffened. The man rose slowly and turned to reveal his white-collar and gentle-mannered face. Jo relaxed slightly, she watched through lowered lashes as the man made his way down the aisle towards her.

"May I join you?" He smiled at her, blue eyes kind. Jo briefly wondered if he approached every parishioner in this manner, or if in fact she had set off his priest "radar".

Jo nodded in the affirmative, tensing despite herself. He sat down next to her, taking care to make sure to give her a fair amount of space. After some time had passed in comfortable silence, Jo voiced the question that had been simmering within her.

"Do you believe that a person has..." She paused, not quite sure how to phrase this particular question. She swallowed before continuing, hoping she would not sound like too much of a nut job.

"If a child is conceived in evil, is it destined to be evil?".

The priest looked a little stunned, clearly her question had come at him from left field. Jo gritted her teeth, hoping that she was not about to be hit with a barrage of awkward questions. Questions she could _not _answer truthfully.

The middle aged man took some time to answer. His blue eyes raised to meet hers," I believe that God has a plan for everyone." His conviction rang clear in his mid-range voice. Jo's shoulders drooped, _That was helpful._ Clearly coming here had been a waste of time. She grabbed her jacket and made to leave.

She twitched involuntarily as the priest gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Jo hated herself for still being afraid of physical contact with men. Seeing her discomfort, the man quickly removed his hand.

He smiled kindly to her, "That being said, no one is born inherently evil." His eyes full of more understanding and sympathy than she would have liked. "We all have a choice".

_Present Day_

The 1967 Chevy Impala pulled up in front of the small house, an almost imperceptible creak audible over the low rumble of the engine. _Damn. I am going to have to take a look at the brakes next chance I get. _Dean hopped out of the car and closed the door with a slam, Sam quickly followed suit. Dean inhaled the cool night, it felt damn good to be outside after the fifteen hour drive to the Boston. And that wasn't counting two hours driving around Boston trying to find what Sam suspected was Jo's address. Dean rounded the Impala and started making his way up the front walk as Sam lagged behind. All the blinds were drawn and no light was visible that Dean could make out. It was clear that the occupant(s) were either away or sleeping.

Sam glanced at his brother, "I don't know, I think maybe we should come back in the morning".

"It _is _morning... technically". The pair had driven all night and it was fast approaching dawn.

The hell if Dean was going to wait for daylight, the two of them had driven across country to check up on Jo. _And _that was after the hours of research spent on trying to track down her hidey-hole. Frankly, Dean wanted to know what in the hell was going on, he didn't care if he disturbed Jo Harvelle's beauty sleep.

The pair paused at the door. Sam shot him an apprehensive look as he knocked neatly on the wood. There was no answer. Dean suppressed a sigh and banged heavily on the door. The brothers exchanged meaningful glances and in one smooth motion, Sam rotated to block Dean from street view. Dean extracted his lock picks from his jacket pocket and bent over the lock. After a short while a soft click sounded, and Dean slipped into the dark entrance. Sam shot one last look behind him to see if anyone was watching and followed his brother inside.

As a result of a lifetime of Marine style training, neither brother made any audible noise as they moved within the home. Out of habit, Sam left the door barely ajar so to avoid sound and to facilitate a quick exit. The house was dead silent. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Dean moved silently and quickly, Sam following his lead. _Living room,_ _kitchen, washroom. _Dean paused at a door that was slightly ajar. He eased the door the rest of the way open and in a single fluid movement, slipped into the room. Sam moved to check the other rooms in the hallway.

It was a small bedroom complete with a dresser, desk and double bed. An _unmade _bed. The door swung closed behind him, and Dean felt a surge of adrenaline as he realized his mistake. He heard the cocking of a shotgun.

A female voice sounded,"Get on your knees and put your hands on the back of your head."

Dean could clearly recognize Jo's voice. "Jo, its Dean!"

"I said, get on the floor!" Yup, it was definitely Jo. Swearing softly, Dean lowered himself to his knees.

"Jo, its me! Dean Winchester."

"I don't..." Her voice faltered.

"You know, Dean Winchester, the handsome guy who saved your ass back in Philadelphia?" His back was still turned to her, so she still could not see his face.

Dean didn't have to wait for a response. Jo screamed as she was grabbed from behind by Sam. He wrested the shotgun from her grip and tossed it onto the bed while keeping a good grip on her. Once his hand was free, he flicked the light switch on.

Sam let out a surprised grunt and finally loosened his grip on Jo, and she tore out of his arms. She faced both brothers in fighting stance. Dean glanced at Sam who was looking at his hand in disbelief.

"She bit me!"

Dean held his hands up to show he meant know harm. "Jo, seriously its us! Douse us in holy water if you need to, just lay off with the biting!"

"Uh Jo," Sam said, his voice suddenly soft. "We aren't here to hurt you... you should sit down, um... caus' of-" He gestured towards her stomach.

Dean looked at Jo properly for the first time, immediately noticing the the large bulge of her stomach through her tank top. She was heavily pregnant. Jo did not look at Dean. Her blazing eyes were fixed on Sam. Jo had the strangest expression on her ghost-white face. A mix of shock, disgust and -Dean could swear- fear.

"Leave... please leave" she whispered, backing up until she was against the wall.

Sam stepped forward and took hold of her shoulders, in attempt to reassure her in typical Sam-like fashion.

Her eyes widened in raw fear. "Don't! No.."

She collapsed in a dead faint, Sam immediately catching her before she hit the floor. He scooped Jo up in his arms and placed her gently on the bed.

Dean stared at his brother incredulously.

"What was _that_ about?"

* * *

A/N: Reviews are the bread and butter of the fanfic writer! So... ahem... you know what to do!


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you all for your support! I will be finishing this fic, I apologize for the long delays between posts.

* * *

"Jo, wake up!" A gruff voice floated into her head. "If she isn't conscious in the next two minutes I am calling an ambulance." Jo felt awareness coming back to her slowly. She was so tired. With her eyes still closed, she could tell that she was lying on her bed. She could feel her scratchy comforter underneath her fingertips. What had happened? Was she hurt? Was the baby? Worry overcame her and her hands automatically moved to her stomach. The baby chose that moment to kick reassuringly. Thank God. A small gasp escaped her lips.

"Sam, go wait in the hall, she's waking up" The voice she now recognized belonged to Dean Winchester.

"Dean-" That other voice. Terrifyingly familiar. _My daddy shot your daddy in the head._ Sam. Oh god, Sam Winchester was here. Her memory came flooding back, and she felt her body tense involuntarily. She curled protectively over her stomach.

"Go wait in the hall Sammy. You saw how she reacted to you last time." A short pause, then Sam sighed in acceptance.

Jo heard the bedroom door open and close, relief flooded through her body. _He was gone._ She opened her eyes. Dean Winchester was sitting on the chair next to her desk, watching her warily. She slowly eased her self up into a sitting position on the bed.

Jo remembered the last time she had seen Dean. And back then, even in the wake of her attack, she remembered how much his indifference toward her had stung. _I'll call you later. _ He had been so focused on finding his brother. Dean hadn't noticed the bruises on her wrists, the raw bite marks half hidden underneath the top of her blouse. Dean looked almost exactly the same as last time she saw him. He wore a faded pair of blue jeans over scuffed boots, a old green button up over a black shirt. Her eyes finally traveled to his face. His cheek was dark with stubble, his green-hazel eyes were fixed on hers and filled with questions she knew she would have to answer.

Dean cleared his throat. "You okay?" She forced herself to nod in response. At least she thought she was okay, as far as she could be.

He paused again. She could tell he was fighting the desire to shout at her for being so stupid, for disappearing and worrying Ellen, for dragging him and Sam to Boston to come check on her. The more chivalrous part of Dean held him back from yelling at a knocked up girl, even if that girl happened to be Jo. Mostly what stopped him was his need to know what was going on. His hunter's instincts seemed to let him know that the only way to find out what was going on was to not scare Jo from talking to him. And Dean knew something was up. She could see it.

All of this, Jo could read from Dean, until finally he calmly said "You are going to tell me what is going on."

His face held calm certainty and expectation. She couldn't hold his gaze and her eyes slid to the bedspread. Dread curled itself in her stomach like a snake as she realized there would be no way to get him to leave without her story. Her mama had always said that any hunter was a dog with a bone when it came down to finding out information. She could clearly see Dean would be no exception.

No one knew the truth about the baby but Jo, and it was a heavy burden to carry by herself. She knew she couldn't complain. She had chosen to walk this road alone. Jo had wanted to keep her mother and Ash safe, and most importantly, her child. Now, despite her best efforts she had been found by the hounds her mother had sent after her.

Jo knew that the Winchesters would report her whereabouts and condition to her mother and everything she had gone through would go to waste. She had wanted to disappear, to give her child a chance at a normal life. The news would get out, and Jo felt certain that some, demon and human alike, would have an unhealthy interest in the baby. Someone would come for them, one day. But if Dean knew the truth, if she could convince him of the importance of her disappearance.. maybe it would still be okay. Dean and Sam could pretend that they had never found her, or even better, say that she was dead. But, unfortunately, she knew that the brothers would not do squat for her without some explanation. She would have to tell them the truth and hope to god they believed her.

It might even feel good to talk to someone, even if that someone happened to be Dean Winchester. She had kept it all bottled up for so long... she had always known that eventually it would eat her alive unless she talked to someone.

Dean glared at her, his impatience getting the better of him "Dammit Jo, you better-"

Jo cut him off before she would lose her nerve.

"It happened in Duluth." She began. Her throat closed up. Jo should have known that this would be hard after so long a silence. She coughed to clear it.

"Sam came in to the bar I worked at, I didn't know he was possessed". She could feel Dean's eyes on her. He knew this part of the story already.

"He was acting so strange, I thought he was high or something" Jo unconsciously clenched and unclenched her fists.

"We talked for a bit. He made a pass at me and I asked him to leave"

Jo still couldn't admit the part about Sam making fun of her for her "crush" on Dean. It was probably best to keep the story simple anyways. Besides, it hardly mattered, the parts of her that had ever felt anything for Dean had been burned out of her by the pain caused by her attack. But, by god, she had to keep going.

"I was so stupid." Her nails dug into her palms, her jaw was clenched so tight her head ached.

"I turned my back on him. He grabbed me and I tried to fight him off but..." She swallowed, forcing herself to continue even as horrific memories flashed through her mind in quick succession.

_Strong hands trapped her wrists._

"He musta hit me pretty hard, because then I woke up and I was on the floor" Her heart was beating so fast, and she couldn't look at Dean.

_Cool air around her lower body. Bare legs sticking to the bar floor. The smell of whiskey._

"My jeans were gone, and my..." Her voice caught.

"I didn't have nothing on below the waist." Her face was in her hands now.

_A warm heavy weight pressing her down._

"He saw I was awake, said he wanted me to be awake to enjoy this" _  
_  
_Struggling. Raised fist. A thud then pain. She saw colored dots when she squeezed her eyes shut._

"And I tried to fight him! I used every god damned trick I know and I couldn't get him off of me."

_The distinctive smell of a man._

"He let me think that I had the upper hand but then he would just slam me back on the floor, laughing"

_Those pretty eyes above her, filled with malice._

"He said that he'd drawn this out long enough, and that maybe I would grow to like this Winchester as much as the other"

_Hot, panting breath on her neck. Pressure. An explosion of pain._

"He raped me." Her hands were tangled in her hair.

"When he was done, he made me get dressed and tied me to the support beam."

"He told me.... told me that John Winchester shot my father in the head and then he....he laughed about how Harvelles keep on getting screwed by Winchesters."

"I guess you know the rest." Her throat closed up again. _I didn't cry._ In a way, she was proud of herself.

A heavy silence filled the room. Jo kept her eyes down. She couldn't bear to see the pity and disgust she knew would be clear in his face. Now he knew the truth of how weak she truly was. Jo fought her fear and forced herself to look at him, he could think her weak but he would not think her a coward.

Jo gazed at Dean, bewildered. There was no disgust or pity in his hazel eyes. Just sadness, and a tenderness... she had never seen there before. She remembered when she had dreamed that he would look at her with tenderness, but how could he not be disgusted by her? Where was the sarcastic "I told you so..." ?

Dean reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder and Jo instinctively withdrew from his touch, instantly sick to her stomach. His hand hung in the air for a moment before he let it drop into his lap. Her nausea faded. She still couldn't stand the touch of a man. She had actually vomited when she had at first tried to go to a male obstetrician.

"I'm sorry." She whispered softly. "I've been trying to stop doing that, but it just won't take."

His eyes were somber, full of a sympathy she had never seen there before, and couldn't bear directed at her. His mouth formed a grim line. For the first time that Jo had ever seen, Dean didn't know what to say.

Finally he spoke. "Why didn't you say anything? When you patched me up- you never let on ..."

Jo's shoulders drooped in relief, at least he believed her.

"I think I was still in shock at that point. And even if I hadn't been, I would have been too ashamed. Afterward, I left Duluth as fast as I could. I didn't find out I was pregnant until eight weeks later. "

Dean kneaded his forehead, eyes far away.

"The baby...its?"

Jo nodded.

Dean fingered the charm that hung on the cord around his neck. " Sam deserves to know"

She looked down at her belly. "Do I have a choice?"

Dean chose not to respond as he got up slowly, "I will tell Sam, unless you want to...?"

Jo met his eyes, "I can't Dean. You can't ask me to."

"Fair enough-" He moved to leave. "You aren't going to try and bail, while I'm out in the hall?"

She gazed at him tiredly. "I can't exactly fit through the window".

Jo forced herself to keep her head up until Dean closed the door behind him. Then she buried her face in her hands. But she wouldn't cry. She never would, never again.

Dean stepped out into the hall, heart pounding in his ears. Jesus Christ. It had taken all of his self control to keep himself calm during the mounting horror of Jo's story. Her stricken face was burned into his mind. He remembered distinctly how she had been when he had first met her. Jo Harvelle had been energetic, honest but headstrong. Now she seemed weary, frightened, and anxious.

And Sam. He knew his brother, and knew this news would destroy Sam. Sam, despite all protests, had the gentlest soul of anyone Dean had ever known. Dean needed to somehow convince Sam that it wasn't his fault. How could it be Sam's fault? Sam had been possessed at the time of the rape, both brother's had then had no knowledge of the protection symbols that would disallow possession. Dean frowned, Sam would never forgive himself when he found out. But at the same time, Dean knew that he couldn't keep a secret like this from Sam.

Dean had no other option. He couldn't keep the knowledge from his brother. All that was left was the truth that Jo had been desperately been trying to hide. Dean had to tell Sam, and then the two could decide what to do from there. One thing was for sure, Jo shouldn't have to deal with this on her own. But how would he tell his baby brother that he had technically forced himself on Joanna Harvelle? That he was going to be a father...

"Dean?" Sam had wandered into the hall, wondering what was taking Dean so long after he had heard him exit the room.

Dean met his brother's gaze as levelly as he could manage. Sam's expression changed as soon as he read his brother's eyes.

The pair made their way to Jo's modest living room and Dean sat carefully on the edge of an armchair. Sam remained standing.

Dean gazed at Sam, completely at a loss at how to start.

"Dude, you are starting to scare me... please... what is going on?"

Dean swallowed then began to tell his little brother the truth.

* * *

Reviews make me more kind and likely to update faster ;)


	4. Chapter 4

_Enjoy everyone, and thank you for the wonderful reviews!  
_

_Cheers, _

_ST  
_

* * *

"You might want to sit down, Sammy." Dean gestured to the sofa.

"Alright..." Sam's voice was wary. Dean dropped into the nearby armchair as Sam sunk into the large sofa set against the wall.

"Okay, Dean. Now you are _really _scaring me."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose in attempt to clear his head. All he could see was Jo's eyes, glazed with pain. _God damn, where was a bottle of whiskey when you needed one?_

Sam's face was set in consternation and Dean was struck by how young his brother still seemed at the age of twenty-three. His too-long bangs made him seem even younger. Dean sighed... there was no use in delaying any longer.

"The father of Jo's baby, its.. its you.. Sammy".

Immediately the bewilderment on Sam's face was replaced by a scowl of irritation.

"You're freakin' hilarious you know that. Cut the crap Dean!" Dean grimaced in response. Guess he could have done a better job breaking the news. But it was Sam who was the one who was good at this kind of thing.

"Christ Sammy, it happened when you were possessed and the demon in you tracked down Jo." It came out in a rush.

"What? You're not serious.." Disbelief colored his little brother's face.

There was a long pause and Dean could almost watch the pieces falling into place in Sam's mind. While Dean had been talking with Jo, Sam had turned on the side-table lamp, and Dean now distracted himself by watching the illuminated swirling dust particles.

"Are you telling me that I.... that I forced myself on-" Sam's pupils dilated with revulsion, his large hands were clenched into the fabric of sofa so hard that the veins bulged angrily.

"The _demon _raped Jo while possessing your body."Of course his little brother would have to somehow make it entirely his own fault.

"Oh God." Sam stared out the window blankly. "You kept this from me?" Sam asked, in shock.

"Sammy, I didn't know. I swear on Mom's grave." Dean's heart twisted, but he didn't know what to say or do to comfort him.

"Sammy..." He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. His little brother flinched away from his touch.

Recognizing that his brother needed a minute alone, Dean got up slowly, fighting feelings of frustration and anger.

"I'm going to go check on her." He said gruffly.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

--

He paused outside Jo's bedroom door for a moment to collect himself. Dean hadn't been this angry since he'd come face to face with Yellow Eyes. Bobby and him had already ganked the demon that had possessed Sam, so there was no justice or revenge left to be had. There was nothing left to do but to pick up the pieces. Frustration bubbled through his body and he was overcome with the urge to break something... anything.

He took a deep breath to calm himself, as best he could. He needed to take care of Sammy, and to get Jo safe and back with her family. She had hidden because she was scared and desperate, but once he explained things to her she would understand how stupid her plan was.

Dean tried not to think about the fact that Jo was going to have Sam's kid. That Sam was going to be a father and Dean an uncle. Their dad was a going to become a grandfather and had not a clue. Dean shook his head to clear his mind of his idiotic daydreams. Sam was the biological father to Jo's baby, and nothing more.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

--

A rapid succession of memories assaulted Sam as he sat motionless and in shock on Jo's sofa.

Sam had liked and trusted Joanna Harvelle on sight. He remembered how he had been respectful of how hard she had socked Dean on the jaw, and of the dangerous fire that was always lit behind her eyes (especially when she argued with her mother). He remembered how the smell of vanilla, mixed with something spicy, had lingered in the air after she had leaned across the bar to collect the dirty glasses. Sam had a good 'memory' for scents. To this day he could still remember the scent of Jess' strawberry shampoo.

And Sam remembered the day when he had pulled Jo from the crypt in Philadelphia, and how she had been more angry than frightened, having narrowly escaped death. He could even remember being jealous of the way she had always looked at Dean, sly smile half hidden behind a curtain of wavy blond hair.

Sam lowered his face to his hands and his shoulders drooped as the weight of the knowledge of the situation settled over him.

_Jesus Christ. _Mind racing, he tried to recall anything from those blank two weeks of his life, eight months ago. After a long minute, he straightened and examined his hands. The palm of his left hand was marked in a half moon of bloody crescent shaped marks. The flesh around the wounds was already puckering. These two hands had hit Jo, held her down, while he... _Oh God. _

Sam leaped to his feet, nauseated from the unbidden images that flashed through his mind. He could still not remember, but hell if he couldn't imagine what had happened.

Sam could clearly hear raised voices through the Jo's bedroom door. Dean's gruff voice competed with Jo's higher one. They were undoubtedly arguing. The sound of Jo's voice resonated in his skull, sending his imagination spinning. _He had to get out of here._

Before he could think twice, Sam was out the front door. His pace picked up and he became distantly aware that he had broken into a heavy run. All that was present was the sound of his pounding heart, panting breaths, and the sound of his feet on the pavement.

Sam tried to keep his traitor thoughts at bay, but he just couldn't run fast enough. He hadn't just forced himself on Jo, he had impregnated her. He was going to be a father!

Approaching exhaustion, his pace unwillingly but gradually began to slow. How far had he run? In his distress he had lost track of time and distance. He took several slower breaths in attempt to clear his mind and slow his runaway heart.

Sam was just starting to calm himself when he felt a brief flash of pain across his temples. It was the beginnings of a violently painful headache, which was a strong indication that a vision was imminent. _No, not now! _He forced himself to come to a stop, aware that he was trembling with fatigue. The last thing he needed right now was his so-called 'psychic crap'.

There was a brief instant of calm, and then it happened. Sam crashed to his knees as pain cleaved his skull. White-hot agony pulsed through him and when his vision cleared, he knew that he was seeing something that was not physically in front of him. He was seeing what was going to be.

_"Since when did you give such a hot damn about whether or not I cared about you?!" Dean roared.  
_

_"I wish I could forget you, dammit!" Jo yelled back, then closed her eyes at realizing her admission.  
_

_"What are you talking about?". Dean's face still angry, but now confused.  
_

_"Leave. Please..." She whispered, pleadingly.  
_

_  
"You are being stupid and selfish, Jo."_  
_  
"Don't you get it? " He continued. "Look, what happened to you sucks hard, I get it. But you_ _still have a family that wants a good life for you. You are throwing all of it away!"_  
_  
She glared at him ferociously, and despite the fear that made her heart pound, she poked him in the chest angrily._

_"Don't you dare pretend that you "get" what happened to me asshole." Her voice was cold and deadly.  
_

_The two stopped for a moment, momentarily out of steam._

_The door to the bedroom opened, and both Jo and Dean turned to who they thought at first was Sam._

_The man smiled maliciously, his beetle-black eyes glistening dully._

_"Sorry to interrupt your little soap opera, but your argument was getting a tad circular."_

_Dean immediately reached for his hip flask of holy water._

_The demon clucked his tongue "Ah ah ah, Mr. Winchester.", he flung out his hand and Dean was slammed tight against the drywall._

_"Sonofabitch!" Dean tried to groan, the pressure was so intense he could barely breathe._

_Jo screamed. She had been inching around behind the demon with her own container of water when she was seized from behind._

_The demon rounded on her slowly, as if just realizing she was there._

_"Oh hello, Joanna! I see you've already met my friends."  
__  
She struggled violently as two possessed humans held her firmly by each arm. How had the demons gotten past her wards?  
_

_"Let go of me!"_

_The demon stepped closer to her, and grabbed hold of her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes._

_"Careful, darlin'. We wouldn't want you to harm that oh-so special spawn of yours, would we?"_

_He gently stroked her cheek._

_"That's right, muffin... We heard your heart wrenching tale."_

_"I am going to kill every last one of you!" Jo yelled in anger._

_The man stepped back in distaste, and viewed her as if looking at something grotesque._  
_  
"Shut her up will you?" The demon sounded bored._

_A hand clamped down over her mouth and her voice was muffled abruptly._

_"So here we are, keeping an eye on little Sammy for a friend of mine, and we stumble across this exciting little drama."_

_"The _first _child born with demon blood, since the other 'special' children have yet to reproduce. And under such _interesting _circumstances too. I expect I will be well rewarded."_

"_Just... let her go." Dean grunted through the pain. "Take me instead."_

_The demon smiled at him condescendingly, and with one fluid motion of his hand, sent Dean flying headfirst across the room. He slammed into the opposite wall and crumpled to the floor, where he remained motionless.  
_

_"Thanks, but no thanks." He replied to Dean's still form.  
_

_The demon rubbed his hands together and then clapped them briskly_

_"Times a wastin', let's go, gentlemen."_

The vision ended abruptly, and Sam was back in the present. The cool night air bit his nose and ears and the light breeze whistled through the tunnel on the nearby childrens play park, the air smelt of wet grass.

Gravel bit into his knees through his jeans, and the pain brought him fully back to himself. _He had to move! _Immediately Sam broke into a full on sprint. _He had to get back in time..._

-ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

--

Jo listened to Dean's footsteps fade away with relief. She flung her feet up on the bed and eased herself back onto the pillow. She rubbed her stomach, feeling along the bulge that contained her unborn child. Jo was more exhausted than she ever remembered being. But she wouldn't allow herself to sleep heavily, not with Sam in the house. She knew the Winchesters were not possessed because they had managed to pass through her wards, but for some reason this did not ease her anxiety.

In the early months of her pregnancy, Jo wouldn't let the ultrasound technician tell her the sex because she preferred to think of the baby as an "it". Sexless and monstrous, just like the thing that had taken her. She had even wanted to hate the child. Jo wanted to hate it as she hated herself for being to weak to prevent its conception or to even get rid of it like she should.

The feeling had changed as soon as she first felt the child move inside her. A fiery wave of love had washed over, entirely unbidden. From that moment on, Jo loved the baby more than her own life. It suddenly no longer mattered that the father of the baby was a Winchester, or even possessed. For the first time in her life, Jo though she could understand her own mother's previously inexplicably protectiveness towards her. Because now. she felt it too.

She was startled out of her reverie as Dean re-entered the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He stomped over to his previous chair, and flung himself down unceremoniously.

"You need anything?" He grunted at her, not meeting her eyes.

Jo felt her hackles rise in reflex to his tone of voice.

"Not from you." _Great, now she was picking a fight_.

She almost felt bad for a moment until he responded.

"Still have the attitude, I see."

Jo shot out of bed and glared down at him. He seemed vaguely startled that she could still move so fast.

"Screw you, Winchester. Get out of my house. Both of you."

Dean stood up, so now he had the height advantage.

"Look, Jo. You don't have to do this alone. And we will not _let_ you do it alone. Pack your stuff, cause we're heading to the Roadhouse."

Her eyes locked with his and Jo found herself shaking with rage.

"No, Dean. You are going to call Ellen and tell her you couldn't find me." She said coldly. "Look. I know I what you are thinking but the safest place for us to be is as far away from hunters as possible."

Dean stared at Jo in disbelief. "You are freakin' kidding me right? The safest place for you and the baby is to be with your mother and Ash."

"You're wrong!" Jo realized with irritation that her voice was creeping higher- it always did when she was upset.

"Don't you get it? This is _Sam's _kid. Sam with the special abilities. Sam that the demon is obsessed with. This kid deserves a chance at a normal life!"

Dean just blinked under the onslaught of her outburst.

Unable to stop herself, Jo barreled on.

"And, Dean. When the demon figures out that I'm connected to Sam... what do you think will happen to me? The exact same thing that has happened to every other woman closely connected to Sam Winchester."

Dean ran his hand through hair in exasperation. "Jo. We can't just leave you here. Think about it, there are people that care about you, that can support you. You know that Sam... and me... will make sure that you two are taken care of. We just want you to be safe."

Jo scoffed in frustration. _After all this time, he was suddenly taking an interest in her well being._

Her eyes snapped to his.

"In Duluth, you were perfectly prepared to let Sam put a bullet in my head. So don't you dare say that you "care" about me, you sonofabitch. I know the truth of the matter is that you are just doing this out of duty.... because I am having a Winchester- Well save it. _We _don't need either of you."

Jo didn't let her eyes leave Dean's stunned face.

His shock was beginning to give way to anger. She didn't care. She was damn glad she pissed him off. After all this time Dean Winchester could still get underneath her skin and now it was her turn to get underneath his.

"Since when did you give such a hot damn about whether or not I cared about you?!" He was shouting now too. She should have known that it would come to this.

Jo felt her blood begin to boil as her emotions completely took over

"I wish I could forget you, dammit!". _It was true, too._ Just as she started a new life, Dean showed up again.

"What are you talking about?" Dean raged.

She met his eyes stolidly.

"Leave. Please..." She pleaded, despite herself.

Dean scoffed angrily and closed the distance between them. Jo forced down a strange combination of fear and anticipation at how near he was to her.

"You are being stupid and selfish, Jo." She bristled.

"Don't you get it? " He continued. "Look, what happened to you sucks hard, I get it. But you _still _have a family that wants a good life for you. You are throwing all of it away!"

She glared at him ferociously, and despite the fear that made her heart pound, she poked him in the chest angrily.

"Don't you _dare _pretend that you "get" what happened to me asshole." _Who was he to impose his will on her? She wasn't some knocked up, runaway teenager, and he was not her father._

Dean was prevented form replying as the door burst open. They had been arguing so loudly they hadn't heard Sam slam open the front door and pound down the hall.

"We have to get out of here! _Now_!"

* * *

Oh Cliffhangers.... :)


	5. Chapter 5

Another chapter for you! And I bet you didn't think I would update....

CHAPTER 5

* * *

The bedroom door flung open, slamming into the wall.

"They are coming through the front door" Sam gasped.

Dean snapped into action mode instantly.

"Jo, you sure you can't fit through that window?"

Heart thudding, Jo shook her head in response. She would have laughed at the ludicrous question if the situation were not so dire.

"The bathroom window is big enough, and its the closest exit."

She felt no fear. Just the high of the anticipation of action- she had lived for this feeling before she'd found out she was pregnant.

Soon the three of them were in the bathroom, the door locked behind them. The sound of their combined breathing seemed deafening in the cramped space.

Dean considered the high window for a split second. "Sam, you go through first and I'll hand Jo down to you."

"Dean, I am the only one tall enough to make it through without a boost." He glanced to his brother as they both heard soft footfalls in the hall. "We don't have time to argue." Sam was already kneeling and ready to boost Dean to the window.

Swearing softly, Dean lithely stepped into Sam's ready grip and pushed open the window. It squeaked loudly. _Shit._

Dean vaulted from Sam's hands out the window and landed with a dull thud in the bushes along the side of the house.

Sam nodded to Jo, his eyes dark and serious. Body tense with adrenaline, she forced herself to approach him without hesitation. Jo stepped up into his hand and he boosted her up to the window ledge. She bit her lip to keep from grumbling aloud at her diminished agility.

The white paint on the frame was chipped and curling , bits of it flaked away under Jo's grip as she clung to it and awkwardly started to pull herself through. She did the best she could to minimize pressure on her swollen stomach. Sam braced her from behind and Jo twisted herself so as to pull her legs forward.

Abruptly, Jo could hear scrabbling at the bathroom door behind her, she tensed involuntarily as Sam's grip tightened. There was a brief silence. _Thud._ Pounding had begun against the door. _Thud._ Jo could already hear the wood splintering, but she didn't look behind her as she pulled herself forward.. _Where the hell was Dean? _Normally she could drop this distance and hit the ground running, but now... there was no way. It was so dark that Jo couldn't see him, but she had to trust he was near. _Shit._

A loud crash sounded, followed by the awful sound of wood snapping, crunching forwards. _The door was about to give! _

"Jo you have to jump!" Sam urged. She made as to jump, but apparently Sam thought she was balking. "Dean! Catch her!". Adrenaline rushed through Jo's veins and she gasped instinctively as Sam gave her a hearty shove from behind. Pushing aside the reflexive terror that would sap her resolve, Jo relaxed her body. Her eyes squeezed shut as she free fell.

She landed with heavy _whumph_ into a pair of solid arms. Dean released her to her feet unceremoniously, eyes already fastened to the empty window frame as Sam's large fingers appeared gripping round the edge. Sam's head cleared the frame just as Dean and Jo heard the door give way.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted as he rushed forward to aid his brother.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jo, still unbalanced from her brief nose-dive, staggered away from the window and towards the back of the house. Her mind was fixed on the truck that she kept parked in the alley that ran behind the property. If Jo could get to it she could leave the attackers in the dust. She broke into an ungainly run, forcefully shoving away feelings of guilt at abandoning the Winchesters. Her child was the first priority, and she knew better than anyone that the brothers could handle themselves.

Jo didn't look back, mind empty of everything but escape. She barreled forward even though she could barely see her own two feet. _It was so dark! Where were the streetlights?_ All of the neighbouring houses were as a black as ink. Her hands stretched out ahead of her, grasping at nothing. The trip that normally took a scant half minute seemed to be dragging on for an hour.

Only the feel of the wet grass slipping under her bare feet let her know that she had finally reached her backyard. She sped up at this knowledge, cursing the speed limitations of her current condition. Jo slammed abruptly into the wooden fence. Relief surging through her veins she felt her way rightwards along the fence, ignoring splinters as she ran her hands along the wood.

Her hand grazed something metal. _The latch. _Jo's hands were clumsy with tension,and she fumbled it briefly. Finally the gate fell open and she darted into the alley. She paused for a moment, uncertain in the pitch black. Dimly, she was aware of yells of pain coming from the general area of her house.

The clouds shifted overhead, uncovering an eyelash of moon for a split second. Jo caught a spot of light in the corner of her eye. The Ford's side-view mirror glinted briefly in the dim illumination. It was all that she needed. Jo dashed to her truck as the alley was again doused in near blackness. This time though she could make out the outline of the Ford, and she was going to get in and _get the hell out of here!  
_  
Jo reached the driver's side and began to open the unlocked door. _She was going to make it. _Without warning, a powerful blow struck Jo between her shoulder blades, pitching her headfirst into the half open truck door.

Jo whirled angrily, fighting her disorientation from the impact with the metal. _Sonofabitch! _She could see him clearly, despite the darkness. A demon stood casually before her, hands in his pockets. His slate eyes were hard and mocking.

The demon shot her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "There's no need to fight, sweet-cakes. We won't mark up that pretty hide while its carrying something _so valuable_... not _too_ much anyway.

His voice was sickly sweet, and Jo wanted to either kick his ass, or puke. Preferably first one then the other.

"No!" Her blood was blazing with fury. It struck her that this was the first demon she had encountered since _the _encounter. Today it was her turn.

The demon glared at her, eyes flashing. He started to remove his hands from his pockets in preparation for a scuffle. Jo didn't give him the chance.

She hauled off and slammed the damned thing in the face with every once of strength she could muster. Jo was rewarded with the sound of a sickening crack as she broke the demon's nose. Blood flooded down his chin. He staggered backwards with a groan, and she followed up with a second powerful strike. And again. She had kept her body strong during the past months, and it showed in the damage she was now inflicting.

Someone caught hold of her fist as she pulled back to hit the thing again. Before she blink, Dean had dumped the contents of his flask of holy water on the demon. It screamed with agony as its flesh smoked. Dean yanked the Ford door fully open and pulled Jo forwards, shoving her roughly across the bench seat into the passenger side.

He hopped in beside her and slammed the door. "Jo, keys." He grunted to her. Jo pulled down the mirror flap and grabbed the spare truck key. She tossed it to Dean. Wordlessly, he slammed the truck in gear and then hit the gas. Jo fumbled her seat belt as the Ford tore across the gravel.

They drove all night. Neither spoke of the one who was missing, in fact, they did not speak at all. Jo glanced at Dean occasionally, but he stared unblinkingly out the windshield, eyes fixed on the path of road that was illuminated by the high beams. He only moved to occasionally check his cell phone for messages from Sam. Jo knew well enough not to speak, but probably couldn't have even if she wanted to. Mind still reeling, Jo eventually took to staring out on the road as well, not knowing, or caring where they were going. She dimly registered that she was in shock. And with good reason, she supposed. The life that she had painstakingly crafted had been ripped away from her in one evening. Thankfully, the pain of that loss had yet to hit her.

Reluctantly but inevitably, Jo gave in to exhaustion that had taken hold of her. She let her eyes close, and didn't feel her cheek drop to rest against the window.

Dean spent the trip tense and agitated. Worry and fear for Sam's safety coiled in his belly like a pair of snakes. He drove automatically, years of experience taking over. His mind was free to go over the last few hours over and over again.

_A few hours earlier, DEANS POV_

_Sam was half way out of the window when he was seized from inside the house. Dean surged forward to catch a hold of his brother's arms. A brief but mad tug of war ensued, with Sam as the prize before the demons inside let go abruptly. All two hundred pounds of Sam pitched forward and through the window. He landed square on Dean, eliciting a groan from his brother._

_"Jesus Christ dude, you weigh a freakin' ton... Geroff!" Both brothers started to their feet, in fighting stances in an instant. Demons had them trapped alongside Jo's house. They advanced cautiously but deliberately towards the hunters._

_Sam caught movement from the corner of his eye. A lone demon was slinking off towards the back of the house, malevolent purpose in his steps. He was stalking something._

_"Dean!" He shouted to his brother, who was closer to the thing. Dean turned and spotted the lone demon, skulking off towards the back of the house. The two brothers locked eyes for a split second. Then Dean nodded imperceptibly._

_Sam hollered and crashed forwards through the demons closest to Dean, distracting them momentarily. Dean darted through, streaking towards the back of the house and praying that Sam would be okay._

_XXXXX  
_

_Present  
_  
When he finally felt that they had put enough distance between themselves and the demon entourage, the horizon was already brightening. Dean turned the Ford into a suitably seedy looking walk-up motel parking lot, "Cozy Castles".

He pulled the truck in front of the main office and briefly debated waking up Jo. He took a rare opportunity to examine her thoroughly. She was completely oblivious to the world, her chest gently rose and fell. Jo's eyelashes formed dark crescents against her pale skin, exaggerating the dark under eye circles. The unreasonable resentment he had felt towards her since they had escaped without Sam, began to fade.

Guiltily his eyes lowered to her torso. For some reason he felt shameful for seeing her while she was so vulnerable. The feeling was reminiscent of when one saw a wounded tiger or other feral creature. Now at her eighth month, her belly was swollen and full. But to Dean's decidedly unpracticed eye, (he was no expert on pregnant ladies) the rest of her looked too thin.

Sighing, he cut the engine and jumped out of the truck. Hopefully she wouldn't wake up while he was booking a room.

By the time he got back, the absence of the engine had caused Jo's sleep to become restless. He turned the key in the ignition and moved the truck to the lot nearer to room. Dean cut the engine again. "Jo... wake up." He touched her shoulder before he remembered her previous reaction to his touch. Her body tensed, and dark eyes fluttered open at once. Jo was immediately alert.

"I am sorry... I forgot not to." Dean shrugged apologetically.

"Its okay, I need to get over it ." She sat up straighter, face grim.

"Uh, I got us a room to share. Two beds. Think its best we stick together, we can rest tonight and then tomorrow make our next move." He met her eyes, trying to gauge her reaction to this news, and the use of the word_ "our"_.

To his surprise, she just nodded. Jo opened the passenger door and stepped down onto the pavement and bit back a scream as stabbing pain lanced through her bare feet. Jo collapsed to her knees, trying to hold herself up as best she could against the door.

"Jesus Christ!" She groaned under her breath.

Dean was round the side of the truck in an instant.

"What is it? I didn't see any injuries on you earlier." His eyes searched her.

"It's my feet". Jo managed, between gritted teeth.

Dean shone his penlight on the bottoms of her still bare feet. He was quiet for a moment.

"You shouldn't walk on those, looks like you got some broken glass in your feet. Its probably from the alley. Can I carry you?"

Jo nodded her permission, her earlier shock had kept her from noticing the pain, but now she felt the full force of it. It felt like someone was holding her feet in hot coals.

Dean scooped her up in his arms, and Jo was almost thankful for the pain that distracted her from the feel of him touching her. He walked to the motel door and opened it with one hand. Dean passed through the threshold, careful not to bang her against the frame.

He kicked the door shut behind him and quickly found the tiny bathroom. Jo winced as Dean tried to set her down carefully on the edge of the tub.

Jo awkwardly arranged herself so the bottoms of her feet were not grazing anything. From the corner of her eye she watched Dean, standing somewhat sheepishly in the doorway.

"There is a first aid kit in the duffel in the back of the truck." He nodded and left at once, eagerness at having something to do quite apparent. Neither of them even briefly considered going to the hospital.

Jo focused her attention on the pain radiating from her lacerated feet. Again, she was relying on the pain to distract her from thinking about... anything.

Dean was back too soon. Jo heard him toss the duffel on one of the beds and then he was back.

He entered the bathroom slowly, holding up the first aid kit like some kind of weird offering.

"Dammit Dean, just get over here with the kit. And ... I'll need you to help with the glass. I can't get to the bottoms of my feet too well with this in the way." She gestured to her protruding stomach.

"Right... okay then." Dean grabbed one of the hotel glasses and the ice bucket from the counter top. Jo could see that he was happy to have a concrete job to do. Even if it was playing nurse to her mutilated feet.

Jo stuck out her left foot first, holding it over the ice bucket. Dean filled a glass with water, and used it rinse away a majority of the blood. He whistled at the damage.

"You should have said something before." He muttered, not expecting a response. He carefully disinfected a pair of tweezers. Jo tried not to think of the coming pain.

Jo nodded, even though he wasn't looking at her. She knew not to take risks with her body, but she had honestly not noticed until she had stepped out of the truck.

Dean grabbed the offered foot. Jo stared at a stain in the linoleum. Soon, her body was overcome with pain. It was punctuated only by the soft 'plink' as Dean extracted yet another fragment of green glass from her tortured foot and dropped it into the steadily filling glass. He worked steadily, despite her infrequent gasps of pain, and the entire process took about twenty minutes in all.

By the time he had started the second foot, Jo had ceased to react to the sharp bursts of hurt. She was simply too exhausted to do much more than stare at the linoleum through pain glazed eyes. Jo did not even notice the fact that Dean would now worriedly look up at her every so often.

She was too tired to even blink, let alone flinch, at Dean's touch when he brushed aside her matted hair to examine her temple. Jo distantly remembered being bashed against the Ford, and supposed that she probably had one hell of a goose egg.

Dean got up for a moment, and Jo sagged against the tiled bathroom wall in relief. At least that minor ordeal was over with. The little bathroom looked like a murder scene, with smears of fresh and dried blood on the floor, faucets, and even a couple on the wall. But she was blissfully alone. She allowed her eyes to close, savouring the brief reprieve. Then, quite unexpectedly, she drifted into a sleep so deep, she did not feel herself being carried to a bed.

* * *

Oh you all loved it. Don't even try to deny it!


End file.
